Late Again
by IceWarrior13
Summary: Wendy Darling and her brothers were eager to fly away to Neverland. Her daughter, Jane, warmed up to the idea of Neverland in a day. Coraline Tyler is not her great-grandmother or grandmother. She's a smug, sarcastic, violent teenager living in the twenty-first century with no hope for humanity, and she believes "Peter Pan" to be a fairytale. So... Who's knocking on her window?


My grandmother and great-grandmother were great storytellers.

All my life, Gramma Wendy and Grandma Jane would tell amazing tales of wondrous lands and extraordinary people and creatures.

When I was young, my favorite tales were of Peter Pan, his band of Lost Boys, his loyal Tinker Bell, and the fierce Captain Hook.

I could listen to their stories forever, their tales of Pan's exploits and even some funny little tales they made up where they met Peter Pan himself. My great-great-uncles would often support these tales wholeheartedly.

My mother never believed them, thinking them to be old fairytales. My older sister and brother didn't believe them for the same reasons.

The whole world knew the tale of Peter Pan, my family made rich for writing a book and eventually selling their story so Walt Disney could make his movie. Gramma and Grandma said the movie was perfect, and that the side-series for Tinker Bell made her a bit more likeable.

Then, Gramma's old age finally caught up with her, and she passed on. Her last words to me were: _Wait for him, love. He will come._

...

Did I believe the story?

I suppose I must have, when I was a little girl. But this is the real world, real life.

In real life, an immortal boy in green tights doesn't show up to sweep you off your feet with happy thoughts and teach you to fly to Neverland.

In real life, you leave home as soon as you can and try to make a living for yourself outside your family's wealth because you inherited stubbornness from those Darling genes.

In real life, you're a seventeen year-old girl working her ass off in a diner in the middle of London, trying to earn enough money to attend college while your parents still push you through high-school.

In real life, you live in a tiny apartment above that diner because the jolly old owner adopted you as the child they never had.

In real life, you aren't an innocent little girl living in the sparkling or unimaginably-horrible past. You're a cocky, sassy bitch living in the shitty twenty-first century who puts up that innocent-little-girl just act to attract more customers and the boss' favor.

In real life, you look up at that star, the second star on the right, every night like you still have hope for yourself and the world that's seemingly crumbling all around you.

And in real life, you slam the window shut, pull the blinds down, and draw the curtains.

My name is Coraline Jane Tyler, and real life was about to shatter.

Yay.

 ** _/\/\/\/\_**

I scrubbed a table, trying to remove coffee stains and ketchup from the wood, frowning.

It had been a long day, and I looked like Hell.

My black-jeans were covered in mustard and coffee, there was ketchup on my black sneakers, my _Doctor Who_ t-shirt (navy with the TARDIS - Van Gogh painting) was dusted with powdered sugar, and my lime-green apron was coated in all of the above and more. My messy, choppy, shoulder-length red/brown hair (with a few blue stripes dyed in) was tied in a messy ponytail with a blue and pink dragonfly-shaped hair-clip on the left side. As usual, I wore no makeup, and I was pretty sure that some chocolate sprinkles had gotten lost in my light freckles.

Yep. My life was AWESOME!

...

Note the sarcasm.

"That's all for tonight, Coraline." Mr. Green smiled brightly, walking over. "You get some rest, now. You've got finals coming up."

Mr. Green was my boss, and he reminded me of Santa Claus. His wife looked like Ms. Claus, and whenever his children and grandchildren visited, it was like I was surrounded by elves. I didn't exactly sign-up to work at the North Pole, but I didn't sign-up for a lot of stuff.

"Thank you, sir." I sighed, standing up straight. Mr. Green nodded, then walked off.

I walked over to the hook in the kitchen, took my apron off, shook it to dispel some of the debris, and hung it up.

Then, I turned and walked up the staircase to my apartment.

 ** _/\_**

I showered, changing into a pair of _Doctor Who_ pajamas and curling up on my bed to watch some _Harry Potter_.

As my eyes slowly drifted shut, I saw the Tinker Bell sun-catcher in my window catch the light of a star.

The second star on the right.

 ** _/\/\/\/\_**

I woke up to a strange tapping noise. My blue eyes fluttered open, and I sat up with a frown.

"What?" I raised an eyebrow, getting up and walking over. Seeing nothing outside, I slowly undid the lock, opening the window to the alleyway behind the diner and looking around. "Hmm..."

Suddenly, something flew at my face, and I let out a yell of surprise as I was knocked to the ground.

I groaned, rubbing the back of my head as I sat up, then looked up into two brown eyes in the darkness.

"You're Caroline, right?"

"Ah!" I whipped a baseball-bat out from under my bed, and swung it like mad, catching whoever it was off-guard and sending him flying into a wall. I stood and got ready to swing again as he recovered, glaring. "I don't know who you are or what you're doing here, but if you come any closer-"

"Hey, hey! It's alright! Jane sent me from the old Darling house." The figure in the dark plopped down on my bed, clutching his stomach. "Ow... Nice swing."

"Hey, when you're a girl and you live alone, you tend to learn how to defend yourself from men who would dare to enter your apartment. Now, who the Hell are you and why are you here?"

"I'm Peter Pan, and your grandmother thinks it would be good for you to see Neverland."

"Wait, what?" I raised an eyebrow, then laughed. "As if! You've got some nerve, coming in here and-" That's when the figure flew into the air and got right up in my face, looking at me closely. "You're... Flying..."

"Yep! You really need to start paying attention to your grandmother's stories, kid."

"I do pay attention! But they're stories, make-believe!" I reached over and turned on the light, and there was the _Disney_ -designed devil himself. "This has got to be-"

"Don't say a dream. Jane gave me a lot of that, and it seriously got annoying." The boy rubbed his forehead. That's when my eyes narrowed.

"I've seen you before. You were that boy at Gramma Wendy's funeral! The one that no one besides Grandma and my uncles knew!" My eyes widened. "It's been five years, and you haven't aged."

"That tends to happen when you live in Neverland." The seventeen year-old smirked, crossing his arms. I crossed my arms.

Definitely a dream.

"Uh-huh... So, let me get this straight. You are the immortal boy who lives on a magic island located just past the second star to the right, Peter Pan from the old stories and movies, and you want me to come with you because Grandma Jane thinks it will be good for me?"

"That's right." Peter Pan, or whatever he was, nodded. "She said you have _no more hope, no happy thoughts_. I would've come to find you sooner, but I couldn't figure out where you were! You always had that window shut! So, I had to go and ask Jane for help!"

"Oh, well then!" If it was a dream, then to Hell with it. "Let's go to Neverland, Peter Pan!"

"... You sure did inherited Jane's sarcasm, _Caroline_."

"It's _Coraline_!" I snapped, frustrated. Even in a dream?! "C-O-R-A-L-I-N-E! Coraline Jane Tyler!"

"Okay, okay! ... Sheesh, you're even as loud as Jane and Wendy!"

"Stop comparing me to them!" I raised my bat. The boy recoiled.

"Sorry, sorry! Now, please! Put the bat down!"

I rolled my eyes and shoved the boy back out the window.

"If I'm going to Neverland, I'm not going in my pajamas. Wait out here."

"Why not?" Peter asked innocently. God, what was he? Three?!

"Welcome to the twenty-first century, dumbass." I slammed the window and shut the blinds. "Stupid imaginary boy..."

 _ **HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I bet Peter wasn't expecting that! Now, I know what you're thinking: what could possibly make me write a** Peter Pan **fic?**_

 _ **... I lost a bet, okay? That's what I get for letting my three best friends know that I write Fanfiction and agreeing to a classic-** Disney **movie marathon.**_

 ** _I only own my OC. Please read, review, check out my other stories, etc. Thanks!_**

 _P.S: **To my viewers who play** Roblox **: try and see if you can find me. My screen-name is** IceWarriorWriter **, and I play Obbys.**_


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